LiBaG: Emergence 2.22 (Patreon)

Sneakers hit nothing but air as he shot skyward, blue energy blasting from his heels and palms like someone had strapped glowing jet engines to them. For about six glorious seconds, everything worked right.Momentum carried him in a straight line up over Kansas wheat, body pushing against the wind and sunset turning the fields below a rolling sea of gold.Then he tried to turn.

He made it around fifteen degrees at best.

And suddenly the thirteen-year-old was spinning, body a deranged ceiling fan and legs kicking instinctively at nothing.

C’mon, focus, just f-fuck!

He rocketed another seven feet higher, before accidentally cutting the power. His bright blue eyes went wide for a panic-filled moment before his thrusters roared to life one more time and seven turned to seventy.

Mana Thrusters + 1Lvl 10

Kansas wheat fields blurred beneath Zeke as he shot like a drunk rocket across the evening sky, blue energy erupting from his palms and heels. Flying—if you could call this uncontrolled mess flying—was still new enough to be terrifying every single time.

Launching? Easy. Turning or stopping? Not so much. Keeping his mouth shut from screaming at the top of his lungs? Also pretty hard to do.

Just like a missile with questionable guidance systems. Armstrong Airlines isn’t responsible for crash landings, spontaneous nosedives, or screaming all the way down. His palms shook, thrusters shaking him from the recoil, reminding him that nothing about this was a smooth ride in the slightest. Should have worn my goggles. The wind cut into his face, stinging his cheeks and eyes and reminding him that he couldn’t risk covering his face if he wanted to avoid a quick and crazy fall.

As if on cue, his trajectory started to curve downward, and Zeke frantically channeled more mana through his palms, trying to level out. The thrusters surged with renewed energy, overcorrecting and sending him shooting upward at a ridiculous angle for the second time in as many minutes. 

Son of a—!

This hadn’t been nearly as complicated when he’d been fighting for his life against Eiling. The transformed general had been seconds away from crushing him into paste when the thrusters had first manifested, letting him rocket away from danger before the monster could grab him. Pure survival instinct. No thinking required.

Now, with nothing trying to kill him, he had to think about the process, which made everything ten times harder.

His mind drifted back to that fight—Eiling’s monstrous form, the sheer terror as those massive claws had swung toward him—and then sideways to the more recent disaster with Queen Bee. The accusations afterward had hit harder than the actual combat.

Robin’s words kept echoing in his head: “How could you just leave her there?”

Wally hadn’t been much better: “Dude, we don’t let people die.”

Martian Manhunter had been quiet but Zeke could feel the judgement from across the cave and even Green Lantern of all people, with that disappointed look that somehow hurt worse coming from him than Batman: “Even villains deserve basic—”

A thruster sputtered out, yanking Zeke from his thoughts as the sidekick tilted dangerously to one side. He panicked, blasting too much energy from his opposite hand, and sent himself into a wild spiral that had his stomach doing somersaults.

Focus or die, genius! You’re a couple hundred feet up!

He managed to stabilize just enough to avoid a crash, but at this point, his mana reserves were nearly empty. Fifteen minutes of barely-controlled flying had drained him worse than an hour of actual combat. Inefficient as hell and twice as annoying just for that reason. I could literally run faster than this for longer. What’s even the point?

Captain Atom stared up at him from below, the man standing in a clearing near a large farmhouse. As Zeke stared down, his mentor waved up at him, the man definitely sensing his struggle. Probably not even a joke either, that much he could guess. Captain Atom always had the weirdest powers. Literally Silver Superman. He blinked after a second. Silver Superman… with as many powers as Silver-Age Superman… huh.Shaking his head at that, Zeke cut the power to his thrusters, the thirteen-year old dropping the last twenty feet and tucking into a roll that still sent him sprawling face-first into the dirt.

-17

Nailed it. Ten out of ten. Olympic gold in the face-plant division.

Zeke pushed himself up, spitting out grass and trying to look like that had been intentional. His mentor wasn’t in uniform today—no silver skin, no energy crackling around him. Just Nathaniel Adams dressed just like him, in jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, white hair practically glowing in the sunset light.

“Not bad for someone who only discovered that ability three weeks ago,” Nate said, brushing dirt off Zeke’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Cap,” Zeke replied, trying to sound casual while mentally cataloging where everything hurt. “Easier when something’s actively trying to murder me, though.”

“Isn’t that always the way?” Nate’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “Come on, take a break. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

He wasn’t wrong. 

Zeke followed him to the porch, dropping heavily onto the steps while Nate settled beside him. His muscles ached from tension—from trying to hold himself together in mid-air through sheer force of will. Physical exhaustion was better than thinking, at least.

Nate reached beside him to a small cooler and pulled out a bottle. “Beer?”

Zeke rolled his eyes so hard he nearly strained something. “I’m thirteen, remember? You trying to lose custody or something?”

The captain laughed, replacing the beer and pulling out a Soder Cola instead, his legal guardian handing the glass bottle over to him. “Right. Sometimes I forget. You carry yourself older.”

“It’s what happens when you get used to fighting psycho generals and mind-controlling queens every week.” Zeke muttered, accepting the chilled soda and cracking it open. It might not be super on its own but being this strong is just worth it. He tossed the Soder Cola back, the sugar and carbonation hitting his system like a welcome jolt of energy.+ 12 Mana Regen for 5 minutes

He watched as Nate opened his own beer, taking a long sip. Does that even do anything for him? Can a walking nuclear reactor even get drunk? Bet it’d take like, fifty beers… Zeke couldn’t help but think how crazy it would be for the man to actually get visibly drunk. I’d actually pay to see that.

They sat in silence for a bit, watching the sunset paint the wheat fields gold. Kansas stretched out forever in all directions, a stark change from the enclosed Mount Justice. Something about that is probably symbolic, but I’m too tired to figure out what.

“I’m not here to second-guess you about Queen Bee,” Nate said finally, eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Just in case you were wondering where I stood on that.”

He hated the way he tensed as the Captain brought it up, fingers tightening around his bottle despite himself. I’m over it. That’s what he told himself. Queen Bee’s death wasn’t something even he cared about in the moment or after the fact, but a bunch of his team turning on him wasn’t something he felt comfortable with at all.

“Even if Batman convinced the League to treat you kids like you are, you’re not soldiers,” his mentor continued, tapping one finger slowly against his bottle. “And… well, goddamnit, if the League are going to make kids do covert ops and secret missions, they’re gonna just have to accept that…” Nate clicked his tongue and frowned, still staring off at nothing, “well, these things just happen.”

Zeke stared at his soda, watching bubbles rise to the surface as the carbonation continued to fizz out exposed to the autumn Kansas evening air. “…so you’re not mad I left Queen Bee to die in a fire?”

“Son, no, I’m not mad.” Nate shook his head sharply. “Least, not at you. That Arab witch controlled your teammate like a puppet and forced you into combat up against monsters that could probably break you like a twig…” the old man frowned again, tilting his head to the side for a moment, “even if you didn’t fight those ones directly.”

He muttered something under his breath, then continued, “Being honest, combat decisions are made in seconds, not committee meetings. Those Justice League types, most of them… they’ve never been in a real war. Never had to make those split-second calls with lives on the line. They don’t understand.”

Zeke took another swig of his soda, letting the carbonation burn his throat in the way that he’d grown to love from Soder Cola. “But…” The rest of the sentence hung in the air even as his eyes trailed over to lock onto the captain.

“I do. More than I’d like to, at least.” Nate’s eyes trailed over to meet his for a second before going back towards the horizon, bright blue and distant once again. “’Nam was… not a simple war and VC weren’t simple enemies. At a point, back in ‘66, my squad got pinned down outside Da Nang, the enemies having not a single qualm with using locals as cover.”

He paused, taking another pull from his beer.

Zeke thought to himself as he kept his eyes on the oldest young man in the world sitting in front of him. I know I fought fake Ultimate Captain America not too long ago but it’s crazy that Nate’s like the closest thing to Captain America and Superman together and nobody gives him credit for it. Sure, the military used him in PR stuff with that kind of message, but they’d always kept his past and record vague, because of the whole ‘framed for murder’ thing. Old guy needs more credit.

“The call was mine,” his mentor continued, “Not an easy one to make given the situation, but I made it anyway. We advanced on them, pushed our way past to the target. Got most of my men out, neutralized the enemy, the brass even commended me for it.” Nate’s knuckles went white around his bottle. “But the civilians caught in the crossfire… we couldn’t get them all clear in time.”

Blue eyes blinked his way, coming back into focus as they locked on to Zeke again. “Sometimes there’s no right answer, son,” he said quietly. “Just… the one that doesn’t eat you alive later. Hell, not even that sometimes.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Zeke nodded slowly as another silence stretched between them, this one more comfortable than the last. 

“Seems like you’ve been getting up there… in strength and powers and all that,” Nate observed out of the blue, his voice cutting through the silence. The sky had darkened from orange to purple, the first stars appearing overhead.”Show me what you’ve got now.”

Subtle topic change there, Cap. Real smooth, but at least somethin I can handle. Zeke stood up, stretching his arms overhead. He could feel his reserves replenishing throughout the whole conversation, the caffeine and sugar in that Soder helping boost his mana level regen rate somewhat. Not much, sure, but definitely enough for a demonstration at least.Rolling his shoulders and shaking out his hands, Zeke jogged his way to the clearing in front of Nate’s farmhouse. “Alright, so we’ve got the basics.”Blue light burst to life in the core of his palm, Zeke focusing ever so slightly on it as he willed it to condense into a pulsing sphere the size of a baseball, the mana vibrating with barely contained energy flush against his skin. Sure, saying the skill name made it happen automatically, but this was a demonstration, and he was gonna give it his 100%. “[Mana Burst].“

He thrust his arm forward, willing the sphere to fly in the direction of a half-crumbled fence post fifty yards away. The half-stable energy burst hit with a crack that echoed across the field, wood splintering as the thing exploded on impact. When the blue light faded, a fist-sized chunk of the post was just… gone.

“That’ll blow a grown man’s hand clean off,” Zeke explained, flexing his fingers as residual energy tingled through them. He knew that for a fact, General Eiling pre-monster mash showing him well enough what his blasts could do to a normal human hand. “Or dent a car door badly enough that it won’t open anymore. Still working on controlling the yield though.”

“Not bad,” Nate nodded. “Good precision, too.”

“Then we’ve got this. My favorite!” Zeke grinned, dropping into a slight crouch as he brought both hands to his side. Blue energy swirled between his palms, growing larger, brighter, the whine of compressed mana rising in pitch as he focused. “[Hadoken]!”

The energy ball erupted from his hands like a miniature comet, tearing across the clearing fast enough to leave a visible trail in the air. It blasted through the already damaged fence post—obliterating it completely—and continued another hundred yards before detonating against a distant boulder. The explosion sent fragments flying in all directions, dust billowing upward in a cloud visible even in the dimming light.

“That’ll take out a car,” Zeke said, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice. “Make it explode like in the movies. Or tear through a brick wall like it’s made of cardboard. Still can’t quite aim it perfectly though.”

“The energy disperses at range,” Nate observed. “Losing cohesion around seventy-five yards. What’s the proper range look like?”

“Welll… uh, um… b-better than it was,” Zeke admitted, unsure of how to answer that. “Still working on adjusting the output. Next up—”

He channeled energy into a tight, compressed form in front of his palm. The mana condensed differently this time—tighter, more volatile. “[Mana Impact].” The energy exploded outward in a wide cone, tearing up dirt and grass in a fifteen-foot spread.

“Area effect,” Nate nodded. “Useful for multiple targets in close quarters.”“Yeah, basically a shotgun blast of energy. Close range, big impact.” Zeke shook out his hand, dissipating the lingering tingles of mana. “Got defense too.”“Show me.”

Zeke concentrated again, diffusing the energy in his hands to a shimmering blue barrier in front of him, a flat plane of energy that hummed quietly, translucent but solid. “This is my [Mana Shield]. Doesn’t last long against heavy hitters.” He knew a focused Superboy could easily shatter it honestly, “But it’ll stop bullets and energy blasts pretty well.”

Nate approached, circling the shield with a critical eye. “Structure seems brittle at the edges. How does it hold up under sustained fire?”

“Falls apart if you hit it too hard at once,” Zeke admitted. “Still working on that.”

Next came “[Power Boost]!”. 

He didn’t have to but he clenched his fists, looked upwards and roared the words as they left his mouth and an instant later, an aura of diffuse golden energy flared around his body like a second skin. The rush hit instantly and Zeke had to take a breath as he took in the feeling, unused to using this skill when his life wasn’t on the line. Seeing the world was so different like this, with every sense heightened, muscles coiling with enhanced strength, everything slowed down slightly as his perception sped up. He grinned at Nate, his mentor looking over at him with one raised eyebrow. “Watch this.” He sprinted across the clearing in a blur, then leaped upward, soaring nearly fifty feet high before landing lightly on his feet and zipping back in under five seconds.

“And finally,” Zeke said, feeling his reserves draining rapidly, aware he couldn’t show off more of his other less obvious skills, “the big one.” He lowered his body and widened his stance, bringing both hands forward. The mana built up in his palms, different this time—not spherical but linear, concentrated into a tight beam as he aimed the energy out in front of him. “[Mana Wave]!“

Energy erupted from his hands in a continuous stream of blue-white force. The beam cut through the air with a sound like ripping fabric, carving a path through the ground. Dirt and grass exploded upward, the beam striking a dead tree at the edge of the clearing. Wood splintered, bark exploding outward as the trunk began to topple, roots tearing free from the soil as the entire thing crashed down.

I’m already nearly tapped, the hell was I thinkin’? Tired or not, even on his last legs, a Mana Wave was still strong as hell.Zeke may have worried about his abilities as a powerhouse but he didn’t doubt that he could push down a tree or cut through a small building easily enough. The Captain definitely thought the same too.

“Impressive firepower,” Nate said, walking over to examine the scorched path. “But you’re wasting energy. See how the beam disperses here?” He pointed to where the damage pattern widened. “You’re losing focus about thirty feet out. Need to maintain the beam integrity.”

Huh. Never noticed that.

“The shield could be more versatile,” Nate continued. “Have you tried shaping it? Making it curved instead of flat, or extending it around your body?”

“Not really,” Zeke admitted. “Mostly just focused on making it stronger.”

“Try it,” Nate suggested. “My containment field can take different forms. Yours might too.”

They continued this way for nearly an hour, Nate analyzing each ability over and over with military precision, suggesting applications Zeke hadn’t considered. Soon enough, the sky had darkened completely, stars emerging in full force away from city lights as he shot blue beam after blue beam into the night sky.Mana Burst +1Lv 41Mana Impact +3Lv 15Mana Wave +2Lv 10

Fully spent and wishing he had paced himself a lot better, Zeke let himself slump back onto the porch steps. “That’s about all I’ve got for now,” he spoke up, words leaving him in exhausted pants. “Unless you want me to pass out, which, fair warning, I’m cool off that.”

His mentor sat down beside him, the six-foot-something quantum superhuman raising one beefy arm to check his watch. “Wouldn’t ask you to. You’ve come a long way since that first training session.”

“You mean when I thought your quantum blast was gonna turn me into a smoking crater?” Zeke snorted. “Good times.”

“You weren’t completely wrong,” The sound Nate let out could be called a chuckle but memories of that day just made it sound a lot darker than it should have. “Just about the ‘crater’ part. Would’ve been more of a sudden-tan situation than a crater, though.”

Zeke glanced down at his own arm, eyebrows rising high at the sight of his already-dark skin as he tried to imagine a tan on him. “Oh, super comforting, thanks for that.”

Silence filled the space between them again as crickets chirped in the darkness, a sound Zeke rarely heard in the city and he’d never spent much time outside at night in Happy Harbor anyway so that was a no-go. The farmhouse behind them was dark except for a single porch light, casting long shadows across the yard.

“My kids are in the city,” Nate said abruptly, breaking the silence out of nowhere. “They came to visit me this time, even brought some extended family along. I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again too.”

Zeke blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The family… again? He remembered his time in Hawaii three weeks back and couldn’t deny he didn’t hate it. I miss Hawaii. Then his eyes narrowed as he remembered a certain someone from last time.

“…is your granddaughter gonna be there?”

“Amy?” Nate raised a snow-white eyebrow in cler confusion. “Yes, Amy’s here for the week with everyone else. Is something wrong?”

Just the nine-year-old terror who punched me in the nuts for getting her grampa arrested. No big deal. Zeke bit back a groan, dropping his head into his hands. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Something I should know about?” Nate’s voice held a hint of amusement. 

“Nope. All good. Just… preparing mentally.” Zeke straightened up, the sidekick forcing a casual shrug as he tried not to shudder at the tiny tyke terror that was Amy Natalie Allen. Maybe I can fashion some kind of cup out of mana energy. Emergency ball-protection shield. “So, when are we going?”

“We’re expected for dinner in about an hour,” Nate replied, checking his watch again. “Think you can give us both a lift into the city?” He glanced over at Zeke, arm dropping to his side with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re… joking, right? Please be joking.” Zeke blinked back at his mentor, almost a little worried because it was hard to tell with the old man. “No disrespect, Cap, but I can barely keep myself straight, and you’re almost like… what? Four hundred pounds of like… pure muscle and nuclear energy?”

“Quantum,” Nate corrected with a grin as he stood up, not bothering to correct the weight jab. Not like it was incorrect anyway. Meta-people tended to be dense as all hell. “And I’m just testing your self-assessment capabilities,” The white-haired captain clapped his hands together. “My truck’s around back. Go wash up, there’s a bathroom through the kitchen. Dust off those shorts too, if you can.”

Zeke nodded silently as he watched Captain Atom walk away, the white-haired man headed towards his truck. Waiting for that Major General promotion must be weird, he thought suddenly, thinking about what Cap had told him was waiting for him next year. Old man was framed for murder, and launched into the future as a living nuclear reactor and now has to wait for bureaucratic wheels to turn before he gets his due.

He clicked his tongue, unsure how to feel about how crazy living in this world was. Makes my problems seem pretty small in comparison. Zeke stood up, brushed the remaining dust from his clothes, and followed his mentor inside. 

Normal family dinner. He could handle that.

Probably.